


A Is For Apple

by JiniZ



Series: SPN Coldest Hits-Don't Read This Dreck [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Amelia just kind of goes with it, Anal Play, Colette is enthusiastic, Dildos, F/F, F/M, Nutcracker guy doesn't really say much, Other, Penetrative Sex, amara is kind of a bitch, and when he does it's in Japanese, idefk, produce section
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 00:41:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6216670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JiniZ/pseuds/JiniZ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neither Amara nor Amelia can figure out why no one likes them. Maybe they'll figure it out together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Is For Apple

Amara Orange doesn’t understand why no one likes her. She’s pretty. Her skin is flawless. Her voice is nice. Her bumps are exquisite.

But day after day, she endures snide remarks from strangers, things like, “I bet she’s yucky inside.” and “You never can tell with her kind.”

So she sits wondering what is wrong with her.

It’s not her fault that her brother, Blood, is more popular than she is. You’d think he was God or something. Everyone fawned over Blood Orange. Just because she was crammed in the back of the box in the darkness for a week doesn’t mean she’s not as important. 

Because she is.

She’s toured the produce section, searching. For what, she isn’t sure. She thinks she may have found it when she happens across a granny smith and they are drawn to each other. They even kiss, but then a [ grapple ](http://www.grapplefruits.com/) dressed in a trenchcoat comes along, and although the granny smith seems to not trust the grapple at first, they eventually team up and expel the devilish grape flavoring lingering inside.  

With the flavoring exorcised from the trenchcoated Fuji apple, the granny smith and the Fuji hold stems as they roll toward the pie display across from the produce section.

Amara Orange rolls her seeds so hard, she’s fairly certain she just made it so she can’t have orangelets.

Amelia Richardson (née Apple) doesn’t understand why no one likes her. She’s pretty. Her skin is flawless. Her voice is nice. Her bumps are exquisite.

Amelia is a helper. She’s a damn veterinarian for crying out loud. She loves animals. She takes care of the fruit flies and mealworms that the other produce don’t want.

And the day that beautiful Sam Banana came in with the ladybug he accidentally hit with his bananamobile? Sure, she’d been angry at first when she thought he was just going to dump the poor bug at her section, but Sam Banana turned out to be a nice piece of fruit.

They’d even dated for a little while, and the sex was fan-fucking-tastic. They moved into the same section at the end of the row for a spell.

The night he met her father, Stan Shallot, Amelia received a raisin letter that said her husband, Don Daikon, was still alive, she knew it was the beginning of the end of her time with Sam Banana.

They’d tried to make it work for a while, but Sam decided that his brother, Dean Granny Smith, was more important than she was. She supposed she could understand the importance of family.

So Amelia sits in the wrong section and pouts. She is the lone Red Delicious in a sea full of Honeycrisps, left there by someone who picked up the wrong apple.

No one likes Red Delicious.

Then one day something magical happens. Someone takes both Amara and Amelia home. Neither had seen the giant’s face as they had both been turned away, but they end up in the same shopping bag and exchange pleasantries through their own translucent produce bags.

Each had seen the other across the aisle and casually wondered why no one would take them.

Amelia Apple supposes no one took Amara Orange because oranges are notorious for looking sweet, but when you peel them open, ready to enjoy it, you realize it’s actually bitter.

Amara Orange supposes no one took Amelia Apple because Red Delicious are the fucking _worst_ kind of apple in all history, and that bitch probably has bruises on her backside.

 _Maybe that’s why no one likes me,_ Amara thinks. _I’m bitter._

 _Maybe that’s why no one likes me,_ Amelia thinks. _I’m bruised._

When the fruit reach their destination, they are placed on the counter where they await their fate. Would Amara be juiced or sectioned and eaten? Would Amelia be eaten or peeled and used for pie?

 _No, that’s not right,_ Amelia thinks. _Pies are for granny smiths._ And granny smiths get her thinking about Dean Granny Smith which makes her think of Sam Banana and the broken ladybug which makes her sad.

She turns away from Amara. She doesn’t want her rival to see her like this.

Amara knows something’s up when Amelia rolls to the right.

She’s not sure what’s going on with Amelia, but she can tell the apple is sad. Part of her wants to comfort Amelia, but a bigger part wants to see Amelia ruined. Wrecked. Practically destroyed. She wonders what she can do to make that happen. 

Amara wobbles a bit when the male giant (she’s pretty sure he’s in his 50’s and Japanese) comes into view and opens a drawer filled with gadgets. He pulls two from the drawer: an apple corer and a [ juicing spout ](http://www.amazon.com/Juicing-Spouts-Fruit-Juicer-Remover/dp/B01B3PWZSA). The giant moves the girls to a cutting board over by the sink along with the gadgets.

The giant turns on the faucet and washes off Amelia, who enjoys the warm water. He doesn’t wash off Amara, and she is filled with righteous indignation at the slight.

When Amelia is dry, the giant takes the corer and sticks it into her head. _That’s weird,_ she thinks. The man pushes the corer as far down into her head as he can get it and twists.

Amelia’s juices begin to flow.

Amara stares at the sight. Drops of juice run down Amelia’s skin. She’s not sure what awaits her, but if it’s anything as wonderful as what’s happening to Amelia, she is all the fuck for it. She can’t wait until her juices get running.

She doesn’t have to wait long.

The giant pulls the corer out of Amelia leaving her with a hole in her head that extends about halfway through the Red Delicious.

He sets Amelia down on her side and she shudders. Amelia feels empty. She tries in vain to squeeze her flesh closed as she feels her juice leaking from the hole. God, she wants to be filled.

Amara’s treatment is different. The giant presses down roughly on her and rolls her back and forth and around the cutting board.

She likes it rough.

When the giant finishes manhandling her, he takes the corer he used on Amelia - _Kinky,_ Amara thinks - and twists it into Amara’s side. He doesn’t push it in as far as he did with Amelia - _Damnit,_ Amara thinks; she really was hoping for some deep penetration - and he sticks the juicing spout into the hole.

 _Not bad,_ Amara thinks. She can live with that.

The giant puts her down and turns to the fridge.  She wobbles on the counter a bit, and she savors the feeling of her juice sloshing around under her skin.

It’s then that she gets the idea.

Amara wobbles a bit more, aiming to roll over to Amelia.

Amelia with that beautiful, wet hole waiting to be filled.

Amara manages to nestle up to Amelia, and the two wobble together for a moment, their juices commingling. Amara’s spout is close to Amelia’s hole, and with just another wobble, Amara manages to catch the rim of Amelia’s hole, and spin the apple into just the right position.

Amelia gasps when she feels Amara’s spout on her rim, but she is ready, willing, and able, so she twists just _so,_ and wiggles backwards onto the spout. The spout fills her wet hole perfectly and she moans.

“Jesus,” Amara says. “You’re so tight. My spout barely fits. Feels so good.”

Amara rolls forward while Amelia rolls backward and the two fuck like that for a minute or so. Amelia’s insides enjoy the feel of the spout. Amara loves the way the spout pushes further into her own center.

Soon, Amara is coming, her juice spilling out of the spout and into Amelia. Amelia feels it splash into her, rattling her seeds.

Their sides are shaky and each needs a moment to catch their breath. Amara pulls out of Amelia, enjoying the way her juice jizz dribbles out of the apple.

It’s then that the giant returns from the fridge with a large carrot. He sets it down near the fruits and squats. He opens a cabinet door, searching for something.

The carrot introduces herself as Colette to her new companions. They pant a hello in return, Amara telling her flat out they just juiced. Colette sighs and wonders what fun she could have had with them. She notices their juice near her and she rolls towards it.

When she reaches the juice, she rolls into it, taking care to ensure she covers as much of her peel as she can. She savors the stickiness as it clings to her peel. “God, I love a good juicing. I practically get juice drunk.”

Amelia and Amara look at each other, each wondering if Colette would be down to juice with them. Amelia is about to ask when the giant reaches up on the counter and feels around for something. When he finds Colette, he picks her up and away she goes.

“Bye!” she calls to the fruits as she is dragged away. She’s disappointed that she didn’t get to juice that apple.

But then, the next best thing happens. Colette notices the giant has pulled his jeans down and he sits on the floor, pants around his ankles.

He sets Colette on the floor between his legs and picks up a bottle of Italian dressing. He places a dot on his finger and tastes it. He hums his approval at the tang and drizzles more of the liquid on his hand, which he wraps around his _penisu_.

Using the salad dressing as lube, he strokes his _chinchin_  to full hardness. The spice flakes in the dressing feel surprisingly good against his skin. Some of the dressing dribbles down his balls and he shudders at the cold.

Colette looks up at him and licks her peel. She itches to get a taste of the dressing. It smells wonderful and she really, really hopes this is going where she thinks it is.

The giant pours a little more dressing on his hand and he pick Colette up. He slicks her up with dressing and she savors the feel of it on her peel.

One hand continues to stroke his _bokki_ , the other nudges Colette’s head against his hole. He breaches himself with her head and he pushes her in slowly. She’s not any wider than a pinky at her head, so she slides in easily. She is about two inches into his ass when he begins to fuck her in and out of his hole, pushing her in a little further each time.

Colette is in carrot heaven. Ask any carrot, and they’ll tell you that every carrot’s dream is to be used as a dildo. It’s a fact of carrot life. She looks around his hole hoping that he’ll use her to hit his - _There it is!_ she thinks. _The prostate._ She practically salivates. Touching the prostate is the Holy Grail of a carrot’s life.

She’s not stupid. She knows that she’s not crooked enough to hit it dead on. She’s waiting to see if he’ll twist her just _so_ in order for her to hit it. She once heard tell of a radish that was large and round enough to sit on a guy’s prostate for hours as he walked around the house, radish firmly in place, the leaves hanging out of his ass.

Colette is glad to have her leaves still attached.

She gets lost in the sensations for a minute or so before she realizes the giant is indeed pushing her towards his prostate. She hears his moans getting louder, albeit muffled considering where she is. Colette shakes her leaves a bit chasing her own orgasm as the giant does his. When he comes, she feels him clench around her and suddenly - and without warning - she is coming, too.

The giant hold her in his ass for a minute while he regains his breath. Colette doesn’t mind. She is where she wants to be, after all.

She smiles as he pulls her out of his ass and dips her head into the come on his belly. Colette can now die a happy carrot.

“Sore wa yokatta desu yo,” the giant mutters. Colette has no idea what it means, but she whole-carrotedly agrees.

The giant sets her down and leans back to lift his ass and pull up his pants. He stands, bringing Colette with him and sets her back on the counter. He bends back down to the cabinet.

“Oh, my god, you guys!” Colette says. “You’ll never guess what happened!”

“He used you as a dildo?” Amara asks, her voice dripping with not caring at all.

“You HEARD?” Colette is beside herself. “You don’t understand what that means to a carrot!”

Amelia snuggles up to Amara again. “I can imagine.” she says.

“But look! I’ve got his COME on my HEAD!” Colette manages to roll herself around so they can see her head.

“Oh, yeah,” Amelia says. “Looky there. That’s pretty impressive.” She gives the air a little sniff. “Is that...Italian dressing?”

“YES! He used it as lube for me! Want a taste?”

Amara decides she does and wobbles over to Colette. She rubs her peel up against Colette and they exchange fluids. “Tangy,” Amara says. She is about to tell Amelia to wobble her ass over here when the giant is back with a juicer.

All three freeze. They know what is in store for them.

The man plugs the juicer in and picks up Amelia. Amelia does not cry. She knew this was a possibility from the beginning. Instead, she looks to Amara and holds her core up high as the giant places her in the wide mouth of the small appliance and pushes her into the blades.

Amara turns away, unable to watch her lover juiced feet first. Colette salutes. Well, if she had arms she would have, but the sentiment is there.

The giant next picks up Amara. He puts her spout in his mouth and suckles a bit of her juice out. He then removes the juicing spout and puts her, peel, pith and all, into the juicer behind Amelia. Amara barfs a little when she realizes that the wet spot at her feet is all that’s left of Amelia.

Colette is last. She stands like a Klingon ready to go to Sto-vo-kor. She is pushed into the juicer, come and Italian dressing still smeared on her. She is a brave little carrot.

The giant is completely unaware of what his juice’s ingredients are thinking right now. To him, they are simply inanimate objects not worthy of a second thought.

But you and I know better. Right?

He drinks the girls and hums in approval. “Nutcracker!” he shouts pumping his fist. He is ready to start his day.

**Author's Note:**

> What was I thinking? IDEFK. Oh, right. Characters no one likes and MCD. That's what I was thinking. 
> 
> [Crackity crack crack crack](http://spncoldesthits.tumblr.com/post/139476843265/march-rules-reblog-this-post-to-enter-your-fic).


End file.
